The Stories We Are Told
by disneyqueen
Summary: Stories are the key to understanding our past, even if the stories are exgaggerated. What happens when the storyteller is no longer there? Will the stories die or will someone else take up the art for the next generation?


**Hi, everyone. So, this is my second ever Hey Arnold fanfic. It is kind of an alternate universe/ older Arnold type of story. So, Arnold may seem out of character, but he is older so I hope that explains some of it. I got inspired to do this fanfic when watching the Parent's Day episode where Arnold's grandpa told all those stories of his parents. I own nothing and I am not making a profit from this at all. Thank you, ShiningEmeraldD, for the currections on the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story.**

"I'm sorry, Arnold, but it's time for me to go."

Arnold had heard those words once before when his grandpa had turned eighty one, believing in an old family curse that each family member passed away when they reached that age. It was only after his grandpa had 'come back' that the facts revealed that the family curse was ninety one.

Three years ago, the family curse had indeed come to pass. The entire boarding house residents were gathered around his grandpa's bed just as they had been ten years earlier. Only his grandmother had not been there to play the organ music haven died a month earlier. His girlfriend, Helga G. Pataki, was in attendance as well, holding his hand in silent support.

Now, lying awake in bed, Arnold sighed, staring up at the ceiling. The last few days had been sleepless nights for him as the university drew near. With each passing night, he found himself needing….no he just wanted to hear the old bedtime stories. Those stories were the only thing that had kept his parents alive for him all those years. His grandpa's voice bringing alive and excitement with each tale he spun about Arnold's parents' adventures. Silently, Arnold sat up, slid out of bed, leaving Helga to her dreams. He grabbed his robe and out into the hall, past the nursery where his little girl slept, and went down to the living room.

Flicking on a light, he went over to the bookcase and pulled out his father, Miles', old journal. The cover was worn with age, but the stories within were the true treasure. After all the exaggerated stories from his youth, the true story of his parents was one he held close to his heart.

Over the years, he had had to accept the reality of his situation, allowing his parents to be just what they had always been to him, the heroes of mere stories. Even the map, he found at the end of the journal had turned up no results on his parents. After that, his grandpa's stories had become all the more precious to him as a child. As a teenager, he had been in a 'rebellious' stage where he had insisted he was too old for any of those old bedtime stories. Yet, now those were the ones he wanted to hear the most.

Running his hand over the journal's cover, he sighed. _Why didn't I write them down? How could I not have thought about tha_t?

The cries of his little girl brought him out of his thoughts. Setting the journal down on the table, he moved back upstairs and into the nursery. He flipped on the light and rushed in, scooping up the little girl from the floor. A small, light blue blanket was clutched in her hands.

"Are you okay, Stella?" Arnold asked, hugging his daughter.

The little girl, Stella, sniffled and nodded. "Me…okay, Daddy. I fell…"

"Fell out of bed, hm? Was it is a bad dream?"

Again, she nodded.

Arnold sighed, staring down at her. She had inherited Helga's features, though Helga insisted that Stella had his beautiful eyes. As he rocked her, he smiled. _I'm glad Grandma and Grandpa got to see you. They loved you, so much. Grandpa…._

An idea struck him. He smiled and stroked the little girl's hair. "Hey, Stella, did you know that your grandparents were acrobats in a midget circus?"

The little girl shook her head; her large blue eyes opening with curiosity.

Arnold stood up and placed Stella back into bed. "Well…they were natural acrobats, walking on those tightropes with such balance."

Stella smiled and giggled as the story unfolded. As he continued the story, he felt another presence in the room. His heart swelled as he stared down at little Stella who was gobbling the story up.

"What…happen next?" Stella asked when he paused.

Arnold leaned down, ruffling her hair, echoing his grandpa's words. "That's for next time. Same time same place, okay? Now get some sleep."

Stella nodded and yawned, her eyes dropping with drowsiness. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, smiling. He had not forgotten the stories after all. As long as he was there to pass them on to the next generation, the stories would live.

**Okay, to answer the question that I know a lot of people are going to have, I know that at the end of the episode The Journal, Arnold found the map, which would led into the Jungle Movie where Arnold would find his parents. However, since that movie was never made offically I thought it was may right to keep them from ebing found. And also add to the reason why Arnold would be so sad about not having his grandpa around to tell those stories. Anyway, please let me know what you think. Good, bad, okay? Or if I should stick to my other fandoms and leave Hey Arnold alone? Please let me know in a review. **


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